


a hero emerges

by wearethewitches



Series: two sides to every coin [3]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: 'Friendship', 5+1 Things, Alien Biology, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Rewrite, CatCo Worldwide Media, Death Threats, F/F, Family Drama, Gen, Getting Together, Hostage Situations, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Period-Typical Sexism, Pre-Relationship, Realization, Self-Denial, Slow Burn, Supercat Week, The DEO | Department of Extra-Normal Operations, Worldbuilding, because we ALL know these girls love each other, mwahahaha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-16 04:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21030395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearethewitches/pseuds/wearethewitches
Summary: Five times Cat Grant and Kara Zor-El don't start a relationship; and one time they do.[ set in the same universe as 'we must keep daring' and 'the world's finest' ][ do ; supercat week day 7]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is _super_ late, but it's here! I have been procrastinating over writing this, coming up with excuses not to, but I have my notebook; I rewrote my plan and now I have a word document with Actual Writing on it, which is progress. Expect the rest of the chapters for this soon - and then Don't/Day 8, because I have a funny feeling General Danvers Week is going to be set in this 'verse, too.
> 
> Wish me luck and here we go!
> 
> edit: my summaries are shit, forgive me cruel world. hopefully i won't change it again....hopefully.

_ National City, Earth; April of 1998 _

To say that it starts simply would be a lie.

“_Superwoman_,” she says, looking Kara up and down with a definite frostiness to her expression. “I have to say, you don’t _look_ super.”

She told Kara to expect the attitude. There are a dozen people behind her and only two are women – the patriarchal society they live in expect women to fight, not to work together, not when their jobs and independence are on the line. Cat sees how Kara clams up, her jaw tightening and her chin lifting. Up on the podium with her hands behind her back, shoulders straight, she looks cold. Hard.

_They’ll chew you up and spit you out again if you show weakness,_ Cat had said, advising her friend in the art of interviews. Carter and Kal-El were asleep in the other room and Kara manic as she paced across her apartment, paying as much attention to Cat as she was the news channel.

“I have to say, _you_ don’t look Kryptonian,” Kara replies. There’s a new accent to her voice that doesn’t match the Californian chirping she’s used to; and as her head bows, eyes only for Cat, the reporter feels her humanity starkly.

“And what is _Kryptonian,_ Superwoman?”

“There used to be a planet called Krypton, home to the Kryptonians, before it was destroyed. My powers come from the solar radiation of your yellow star – your sun. Krypton was orbited by a red star, that we called _Rao_.”

In the audience at Cat’s back, there are murmurs of disbelief. The journalist to Cat’s right outright scoffs, sneering.

“You’re not very green for an alien.”

Kara’s head tilts again, gaze finally leaving Cat. She looks superior. Cat wonders how hard it is for her – if this is an act, or merely a return to what she was before coming to Earth.

“Extraterrestrials come in all shapes, colours and sizes. I’m not familiar with the other inhabitants of your solar system, though my ship noted there were several. The databanks were dedicated to other things, however.”

“Your ship?”

“What other species?”

A waterfall of questions rain down on Kara, but Cat is quiet. Her hand rises, her query calculated and ready to be answered – they prepared for this.

“Miss Grant, from _The Tribune_, I believe?” Kara gestures in her direction, wrist sharp and her persona solid. Cat bets there will be rumours that she came from the military, that she was an escaped experiment or an enemy super-soldier. Her question is short, but complex.

“What is your purpose as _Superwoman?_”

The first hint of warmth enters her expression, genuine strength of character relaxing her posture and a steadfast hope gleaming in her eyes behind the mask. The mask was Kal-El’s idea, inspired from comic books owned by a friend of his from preschool – not to mention, it matches the dark jumpsuit she wears as a _supersuit_.

On the stage, Kara raises a hand, pressing it to the symbol on her chest. “This is the symbol of the House of El. It may look like an _S_, but it’s not – it’s a glyph. The best translation of its meaning is _hope._ When California was split apart by the earthquake, I knew I could no longer stand by and do nothing-”

_The ground shakes and Cat screams as the car tilts sideways, falling into a chasm, the road splitting apart around her._

“I have a civilian life. I won’t lie and say I’ll always be available. Even firefighters need a day off – but I want to volunteer,” she says, beautiful in the sunlight, white blonde hair gleaming, as if she’s Aphrodite or Helen, standing on the walls of Troy. “I want to inspire people and give them hope when in any other situation, there would be none. I’m bulletproof, I can walk into burning buildings unscathed, I can fly and I have super-strength. If I have these powers, I might as well use them for good.”

“A pretty speech,” Cat replies, voice stilted and odd. Their words are scripted, but it still feels _wrong_ to argue with her. “But you didn’t answer my question. What is your purpose as Superwoman? Are you a hero? A vigilante? A _volunteer?_” Her last word is mocking and Cat is in character, but her heart is screaming.

This is _Kara_. She shouldn’t _mock_ her.

_Then there's only dust and dirt and rocks falling through the cracked windows, because the car is moving up - Kara is hauling her and her driver up towards the light, flying and using super-strength. Saving her life. When she sees Cat alive and well, tears of joy fall down her dust-covered face._

“All of them.”

Later, when Cat is enjoying a glass of wine alone in her penthouse, Kara visits, her spare keys dangling between her breasts on a lanyard. Cat allows herself to savour the memory of what her friend looks like beneath her dark red t-shirt, ready and willing to blame the wine if Kara notices. _I am screwed,_ Cat thinks as she drains her glass, eyes closed as Kara chuckles.

“Bad day?” she teases.

_She’s not mine to love, not like that. _Cat convinces herself very thoroughly of this fact, automatically insulting the other paparazzi currently invading _her_ city as Kara settles down on her sofa, their legs tangling. Carter and Kal-El must be with a babysitter – maybe that old woman who lets Kara use her space in the large freezer in their apartment building basement. What’s her name? Charlotte? Sharla? Whatever her name might be, the woman is inordinately fond of Kara’s boys, powers and all.

“I think it went well,” Kara tells her, shy. Her foot loops around Cat’s ankle, nudging gently. Cat looks away, pouring herself some more wine. “Don’t you?”

_Don’t look._

Cat looks.

“I think it went brilliantly,” she says blandly, staring at Kara and wondering how unlucky she is to have fallen for this gorgeous woman. Cat sips her wine, regretting more than ever her one night stand rule. She wants to kiss her, wants to be domestic with her and her sons, wants more than this friendship they share.

“I think you were brilliant,” she says, softly, before turning away. One day, Cat promises herself, she’ll tell Kara the truth.

“Aw, thanks, Cat,” then says Kara, cheeks going pink. “You’re the best friend a girl could ask for.”

“Yes,” Cat smiles, holding back a scream. “Your best friend.”

“The absolute _best._”

_Forget it. I’m never telling her. Ever._


	2. Chapter 2

_ National City, Earth; a few hours prior to the new millennium, 2000 _

“You know what would be great, kitty-cat?”

Refraining from insulting her peer and fellow hostage in revenge for the age-old nickname, Cat instead attempts to get out of her cuffs. Skin chaffing and catching on a stray, sharp edge at the base of the pole she’s tied around, Cat lets out a gasp. She can feel blood running down on of her fingers, stinging hard.

Across the room, their captors are murmuring to themselves, watching CCTV they haven’t bothered to aim away from their hostages. If Cat cranes her neck, she can see flashing images of National City’s public partying away the night, neon watches and billboards counting down to the inevitable _01/01/2000_.

“It would be great,” Lois continues, “if I weren’t wearing a white suit. It’s a fashion statement, I know, but it was supposed to make an impact as my New Years wardrobe, not Hostage Chic.”

Cat snorts, glancing over to the other pole. Lois has been her rival for years – she’s already poached her favourite little photographer, Olsen, from the _Daily Planet_ – and they’ve definitely attended more than a few parties together – Perry White still regrets letting them starting that pool tournament at his bachelor pad, back in ‘94 – but this is the first time they’ve been taken hostage, outside of the occasional shoot-up of the _Daily Planet_ head offices. Even then though, they’d been in a group of dozens.

It’s a little different, this time round.

“She’s nowhere to be found.”

One of the kidnappers groans, rubbing at his forehead. “You think she wasn’t joking, then? She really _is_ taking the night off?”

“Must be – there’ve already been a couple of emergencies throughout the city. Only normal service responders,” another says, flicking through TV channels. Eventually, he stops on _CatCo Worldwide Media _with her own pink panther logo cutout with _CWM_ sitting stationary in the top-right corner, Cat’s least favourite evening host holding a microphone too close to her mouth as she states urgently.

“_-just arrived. The Police Department of National City are talking to Superwoman now behind me-_” the host moves, the camera zooming in on the image of Kara as Superwoman, glaring furiously at a framed portrait. It can’t be seen from so far off, even zoomed in, but Cat doesn’t need to see it to know what it is – they’d taken a photograph of the both of them an hour ago, with their own special message written on a whiteboard between them.

“Oh, oh – boss! Boss, I think we’ve got her!” One of their captors calls out, eager and reaching for a gun. On the television, Kara shoots up into the sky, disappearing into the black, faint bursts of light reflecting off the neon blue lines of her suit; she’s not bothering with stealth, it seems.

Heart pounding, Cat looks to Lois. For once, Cat doesn’t see her annoying rival, but instead sees the scared woman underneath. Her lipstick bitten off, an ugly yellow bruise growing across her face from where she’d been hit with the butt of a semi-auto…even her hair, dark and sleek and beautiful, a credit to her Japanese mother, is in disarray.

“You’re a mess, you know,” Cat says, trying to cheer her up. Lois’ eyes flash, shoulders lifting. “You could at least _try_ to look less like a wreck.”

“Kitty-cat, I swear,” Lois grins with all her teeth, “I will murder you when we get out of here.”

“Oh, are death threats all you’ve got, Lane?” Cat smirks. “Your game is terribly off.”

Lois scoffs and there it is – her confidence returned and that certain _Lois-ness_, her stubborn countenance always a sight to see. Cat has seen how she fills a room. It has always been part of why they clashed, trying to fill the same spot and the same set of shoes in Perry White’s offices. Cat is glad she got away from Metropolis – least of all, because her company stocks are soaring through the roof.

Their captors aren’t so neat in their threats. One steps forwards, pressing the barrel of their gun into Cat’s shoulder. “Oi,” they say, “shut up. If you want to keep yourself intact, you’ll keep quiet.”

“I rather doubt I’ll have to,” Cat replies casually, though her heart races inside her chest. It has not been the first time she’s been threatened this evening. “She’ll be here any second, moron.”

“I’m warning you-”

“No,” Cat interrupts fiercely, smiling as she hears warehouse doors being shredded from their casings, “I’m warning _you_.”

She’s magnificent, of course. The first people she goes for are the ones with hair-triggers, the next the ones by Cat and Lois. When the goon with his gun to her shoulder goes flying through the air, Cat lays eyes on her best friend and raises an eyebrow.

“You’re late.”

Kara grins. “A little boy was missing his aunty and his brother heard a rumour she was in Metropolis. I was asked to retrieve her. How was I supposed to refuse?”

Cat sniffs pointedly. “I never told _you_ I wasn’t coming, so why would you believe Carter?” she replies, closing her eyes as Kara leans in, arm twisting around her to snap the cuffs. Cat’s arms just about collapse for a moment and she’s thankful that Kara has to go rescue Lois, too, as it gives her a chance to breath.

For all the time they spend together, they don’t hug often. They play footsie and curl up on the same sofa, together, but their faces don’t connect – Cat never gets the chance to guess the scent of Kara’s hair, not like she did just now.

_Cookies, _she thinks, slightly dazed at the knowledge that she knows at all. _Carter’s favourite._

“I’ll be back in a minute!” Kara cries out after another round of gunfire ricochets off the nearby wall. Speeding away, she leaves Cat and Lois to get to their feet, instincts over a decade old pushing both women towards the computer desk.

“What was that all about, then?” Lois asks as Cat searches through the files, distracted by the violence going on behind them. Cat pays it no mind.

She trusts Kara to keep them safe.

“Where were you going, tonight, after your party at CatCo?”

Cat looks at Lois briefly, trying to judge her rival’s deductions. Cat shouldn’t have been so loose with her words – but neither should have Kara. Humming lowly, she sends herself an email with copies of the bank details ready and waiting and the Darkweb forum names their captors were roaming.

“It may pain you to realise this, Lois, but unlike you, I have friends and family who love me and don’t go away to foreign countries to wage war, instead of spending the holidays with me,” Cat finally replies. She sees Lois flinch sharply and is not sure whether the blow is too low or not.

The problem is that Lois doesn’t know about the landmine she’s stumbled across and the best way Cat can make her step _off_ it is to get her angry. Lois forgets the small things, in the face of anger. She always has. It’s just making her angry in the first place that always has Cat saying things that hit home and hit hard.

“How is your sister, by the way? JAG, right?” Cat meets her eyes and Lois clenches her jaw, smile see-sawing between a polite incline and outright hateful grin.

“Keep your nose out of my business, Grant. Lucy is _none_ of your business.”

“And none of yours, if I’ve heard correctly,” Cat gets in the last word before Kara speeds up to her side, hand resting over her wrist. “Superwoman,” she greets.

Kara’s eyes dart between Cat and Lois, because she, of course, heard the whole thing.

“Are you both alright? Do either of you need to go to the hospital?”

“We’ll need to, for the police report,” Cat drawls, already moving to use Kara as a wall, leaning on her as she takes off her shoes; one of the heels are broken and she refuses to break an ankle. She also refuses to touch the ridiculously dirty floor, even though she’s been sitting on it for at least an hour and a half.

Kara, knowing her proclivities, lifts her up bridal style with something of a sigh. Cat tries not to look her in the face, exaggerating every movement, like she’s doing it for style or attention, rather than genuine fear of bacteria, dirt and shards of glass. A slight squeeze from Kara shows her ruse only has one believer.

“Time to go,” Kara says softly.

_Damnit_, Cat thinks.

She really loves that voice.

“Come on, Superwoman. Save the day and deliver the damsel to her waiting chariot – which in this case, is an ambulance,” she says.

Across from them, Lois narrows her eyes. In her mind, Cat swears.

“You won’t be able to hide it forever,” her rival says later, in the bowels of NC General. She whispers lowly, only loud enough for Cat – and Kara – to hear. “You know her, out of the suit.”

Cat doesn’t bother lying.

“And if I do? She’s my friend, Lane. I’m not about to give her up to the government for being an alien.”

“She has children.”

“She has people who rely on her,” Cat glares at Lois, who smiles flatly. Cat raises a finger, the tape around it stained red. Lois scrunches her nose up at the sight. “If you breathe a word of this to anyone, Lane, I’ll know who it was. We’re the only ones who know.”

“No-one will hear about your girlfriend from me, kitty-cat,” Lois says, playfulness returning, a true smile edging onto her face. But Cat recoils.

“No – no, she’s just my friend, Lois. Nothing more.”

Lois raises an eyebrow, shaking her head. “I have trouble believing that.”

“I think I know my own relationships better than you,” Cat snipes.

A roll of eyes. A wink.

“Sure, Cat. Friends. _Just_ friends.”

“Yes. Just friends.”

The door opens and Superwoman leans on the edge, a sheen on her eyes reflecting the light. She’s heard the entire conversation, clearly – but strangely enough, Cat thinks she looks like she’s about to cry.

“Yeah,” Kara says, never looking away from her. “Friends forever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Lucy Liu is always my Lois Lane in any Supergirl 'verse - sorry! (Also, do you like my supercat/clois parallels, because I do!)


	3. Chapter 3

_ National City, Earth; November of 2001 _

Her heels clack on the concrete, legs burning from exertion. Cat only has eyes for _Noonans_, the coffee shop where she reunited with Kara six years ago. In a way, there’s a symmetry – what must happen now will mirror the reestablishment of their relationship and by god, does it hurt.

Carter, nine years old and thriving, is out in the sunlight, doing homework on one of the tables. His curls have darkened slightly over the years, though they glint with honey gold in the light. Blue eyes lift, meeting her own as a smile spreads across his face, hand rising to wave. He’s well-behaved enough not to run her way, not like Kal-El, who crunches his pen in hand and rushes towards her at a speed slow enough to pass as _exuberant_ rather than _super_.

“Darling,” Cat greets pleasantly as his arms wrap around her waist, voice softened but still on edge. She runs her fingers through soft brown corkscrew curls, leaning down to press a fond kiss to his forehead. It’s an automatic reaction. Kal-El is nearly seven. How could so much time have passed? Unwillingly, Cat finds herself scowling.

“Cat?” Kal-El’s smile twists into a frown. “Why’s your smile upside down?”

“Because people are idiots and I’m going to miss you terribly,” Cat confesses, glancing up in time to see Carter stand up, expression confused.

“Aunty Cat? Where are you going?” he asks, drifting over. Behind him, Cat can see Kara inside the café, attempting to leave a booth full of students, who surround her on both sides. Carter reaches out to take her hand. Cat realises it’s shaking. “What’s going on?”

_He looks so much like me,_ Cat thinks, forcing her lip not to wobble, making sure her expression is clear and stiff. Carter has always looked unusually like her and the resemblance is only becoming more obvious as he ages.

Cat doesn’t like thinking about what that means.

“I need to speak with your mother. You need to schedule a holiday, immediately. I heard Miami is nice, this time of year,” says Cat, hating how her heart hammers in her chest. If she can feel it, there’s no doubt that Carter, Kara and Kal-El all can, too – not that they couldn’t trace her heartbeat from half a city away, in any case.

“A holiday?” Kal-El blinks, eyes widening. “Like when we go to see Nana and Grandpa?”

“Exactly like that, my darling.” Cat says to him, unable to resist the urge to pick him up and put him on her hip, like he’s four or two or a baby. His weight is negligible – he’s always flying, when someone picks him up.

Kara approaches them.

“Hey, Cat. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know if they can hear us or not,” Cat tells her, getting straight to the point. “I don’t know how much time you have, if you can go back to your apartment or if it’s safe for the boys to do anything but run away with you.”

Kara’s eyes widen, hand reaching for Carter and for Cat, one wrapping around her son’s shoulder and the other squeezing Cat’s shoulder. “What? How do you know this? Are the boys in danger?”

“Nine Eleven saw the birth of at least one new alphabet soup agency,” says Cat, murmuring under her breath and slowly losing her composure, “and they came to my offices less than an hour ago, asking me to give up your identities. I refused – and then they told me they already knew. It was a curtesy call, to see where my allegiances laid. They want you. Kara- _Kara._”

Cat pleads in a whisper, trying without words to convey her worry and her fear. It’s reflected in Kara’s eyes, full of anger, like broken glass and hurt. It does not matter that the sun is shining or that the rest of National City gets on with their day like normal. Fraught tension bubbles between them and all Cat can think about is Henshaw and all his goons at the edges of her office, acting like they belonged there.

Cat tries to settle herself and fails. She whispers: “They call themselves the Department for Extranormal Operations. The _DEO._”

“Extranormal isn’t a word-” Kal-El tries to chime in, oblivious, but Kara snaps at him in Kryptonian, her words and language intelligible to Cat. What she knows is that they sound like orders. Cat watches her best friend – _the woman she loves_ – look to Carter, who nods quickly and moves away from their group.

“What’s he doing?” Cat asks.

“Getting our things,” Kara says, voice clipped. Her eyes are glassy. The hand on Cat’s shoulder moves to her cheek and then she does the unbelievable, stepping closer and pressing their lips together. Cat’s eyes don’t have time to slide shut before Kara is asking her, “Forgive me?”

“For what?” Cat whispers, head swimming. She can hear the silence that’s fallen around them, the mutters about _dykes_ and _god_ echoing from people nearby, but she doesn’t care. Kara had just kissed her.

_Don’t look at Carter, **don’t look at Carter**-_

“I love you, but I couldn’t tell you that I knew,” Kara says and something in Cat cracks. Her brain is too wired to determine whether it’s from the _I love you_ or for what else Kara says. The hand on her cheek is gentle. Her words are not. “They came to Carter’s school and watched him all day. They did the same with Kal-El last week.”

“_What?”_

Kara is frenzied as she leans forwards, smashing their lips together. Cat grasps blindly at her long, checkered sleeve, tangling in that long, white blonde hair she loves so much. Kal-El is holding her tight enough to hurt, but then he’s out of her arms and in Kara’s instead. Carter behind her has packed their things and he darts forwards, hugging Cat like it’s the end of the world.

“Look after my heart and my paintings,” Kara begs of her, Kal-El clinging to her chest like a limpet, like she hasn’t just asked Cat to love her and keep her physical memories of Krypton safe. “Know that I wouldn’t do this if I had any other choice. They’re coming for me – for _us._”

“Kara, don’t go,” Cat utters, the exact opposite of what she came here to say in the first place. Her hands are stuck around Carter, who is tall enough to kiss her cheek from the ground if he stretches. He doesn’t bother, floating up and then back, away to his mother. His eyes are full of tears.

_Cat knows those eyes._

“Don’t take him,” she pleads, looking to Kara. They escape her mouth without her consent. “Please, Kara.”

“Forgive me, _te zhor _– but we have to go.”

And then they fly up into the clouds, mere specs in the distance in seconds. All Cat can think is: _I don’t know what ‘te zhor’ means._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .......................................and yeah, she knows.


	4. Chapter 4

_ Metropolis, Earth; March of 2002 _

The darkness of Metropolis is not like the dark of National City, of Gotham or Los Angeles. It’s striped with gold, beams of light spilling across everything and illuminating the sky. The shadows might be numerous, but the evil of this city comes from the corporate, not the criminal or deranged. Where Gotham is dirty and riddled with lunatics, mobsters and corruption and where National City is rife with natural disasters and ‘supervillains’ eager to test their mettle against Superwoman, Metropolis is a nice middle ground. Safe – safe from _extranormal_ _violence_, that is.

Either way, from the balcony of Lex Luthor’s penthouse, Metropolis is beautiful to look at.

Swirling her scotch, Cat leans up over the railing. The stars are hard to see in the city. They can barely be seen through all the yellow light pollution – not at all like her childhood home on the outskirts, where she used to lie on the grass with her father and stare upwards.

_I wonder if Kara is seeing these same stars._

“Lovely evening for stargazing,” her host says from the doors. Cat glances back to see Lex fiddling with his tie, loosening it as he looks up. “I named more than a few of them.”

“What if they already have names?” Cat asks, watching the man’s smile freeze. Cat raises her glass in his direction, changing the subject. “Congratulations on beating cancer, again.”

“Hmm,” he hums, stepping forwards to join her on the railing. “How did you know it was _again?_”

“Your mother and I went to Radcliffe together.”

“Ah.”

Cat tilts her head, “Lillian can be tight-lipped when she wants to be, but she asked for my discretion over the matter, unless you passed. Then the release would be on me. CatCo held onto that story and hopefully will never have to run a rewrite in _The Tribune_.”

Lex flashes her a smile. “Thank-you. I’ll keep it in mind, if I decide to die.”

“Rumour has it that tonight is your last chance to make those jokes,” Cat smirks in amusement, noting Lex’s immediate expression of exasperation. “Little sisters are pains.”

“Like you would know,” says Lex, rolling his eyes. “The closest thing you have to a sibling is my wife and Lois says you’re the most annoying woman on the planet.”

“How dare she?” Cat says in the driest voice possible. A comfortable silence falls, the two drinking what remains in their glasses before Lex plucks her tumbler from her grasp, winking.

“If Lena has her way, I’ll never die from anything, natural causes included.” Lex stage-whispers, before walking backwards towards the door, raising her glass. “I’ll get you a refill. Top shelf.”

“It had _better_ be top shelf, Alexander, or I won’t bother coming to these parties of yours, again.” Cat replies, watching him laugh as he goes, turning back to the stars with a fond expression and a shake of her head. How Lois had managed to fall in love with him, she’ll never know – he’s funny, but not exactly the sort you expect someone to settle down with. Cat snorts, remembering high school.

“You rebuilt your life fast.”

Cat jumps out of her skin, grasping at the railing as she lets out a shocked grasp. She looks towards the owner of the voice, heart pounding as she looks to the speaker, who floats down onto the balcony with a neutral expression.

“Who the hell are you?” asks Cat, voice sharp as a whip, but shaking from nerves. Suddenly, she wishes she hadn’t drunk that scotch.

The person – _woman_ – is unfamiliar to her, except for the dark jumpsuit and straight-laced demeanour. Cat has seen this before, on a podium in front of a crowd of journalists. Then the woman comes into the light and she legitimately can’t breathe, sure she’s hallucinating.

“Astra In-Ze.”

Astra stills, cocking her head. “You know my name.”

“Yes. I do.” Cat says, thinking of the portrait in her office on canvas, two woman holding hands painted in black and blue. Kara’s depiction was perfect, down to the tacky silver ringlet in her hair. “What do you want from me?”

The Kryptonian woman sneers. “Tell me where Kara is.”

Her mouth dries. Her heart pounds faster. “You’d have better luck trying to find a needle in a haystack,” she says. “Kara’s gone into hiding. I haven’t seen her in months.” Her. Them. Cat has dealt with the fallout of Superwoman’s disappearance and faked the paperwork on Kara’s behalf to cover her absence from the university and National City.

“Why did she go?”

“Is that any of your business?” Cat can’t help but reply, snarkiness returning to her, poise and self-assurance straightening her back. “No. It isn’t. Kara worked in the public eye for three years before leaving. You had your chance to seek her out.”

In a moment, Astra is at her throat, hand curved around her fragile jaw, their noses nearly brushing. Cat is pressed up against the balcony and it is the least sexy thing she has taken part in _ever_. Cat can’t breathe.

“Tell me where my niece is and I’ll make your death quick.”

“Don’t-” Cat starts, choking, hands grasping at her wrist. “Don’t-”

Astra’s grip relaxes enough for her to talk. Cat goes for the unexpected – for the jugular.

“Don’t you want to know about her sons, too? Or did you miss that memo?”

Kara’s aunt blinks rapidly, the sharpness of her expression melting into pure, puppy-dog confusion. “What?” she asks, voice quiet and strained. The hand like iron around Cat’s throat stays there, though. Cat inhales deeply, stressed beyond belief.

“Her nephew, Kal-El, son of Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van,” Cat says hurriedly, glancing back through the ajar doors to the balcony. No-one has noticed Cat’s position. “He’s seven years old, now.”

“You know his parents’ names,” Astra says, tone concerned. She looks at Cat in confusion and sorrow. “How?”

“Kara and I were-” _together for a night of passion. Cat helped with Carter and Kal-El as they grew taller and wiser and older. She was the one to listen to Kara when she talked about her past and the last to say goodbye – the last to be kissed._ Cat closes her eyes, neck aching, remembering Carter’s arms around her waist. “Close. Kara and I were close.”

_That’s all we were._

“You said sons, plural,” Astra prods, letting her down at long last. Cat rubs at her throat silently, Astra hovering over her. It’s slightly intimidating, but Astra doesn’t project any more violence or any of that threatening aura of before. The unexpected interrogation had caught Cat off-guard, she’ll admit, but the thought of discussing Carter-

_-of discussing **their** son**-**_

-is unthinkable. It burns in her chest like a fire. Cat loves Kal-El, she really does – she’d always been in his life from a very young age and had memories to spare of him growing up – but Carter is different. Carter has always been _Kara’s son_ to her, like Kal-El has been _Kara’s son_ and _Kara’s nephew_. It’s different now, though; absence makes the heart grow fonder, but they forgot to tell Cat that it also makes your suspicions grow stronger.

“He’s Kara’s, biologically,” she eventually states. Astra is a stranger. Astra is Kara’s aunt. The latter wins out, in Cat’s mind. “Her son by blood.”

“And the father?”

“No father.”

“The mother, then?”

_There it is._

Cat clenches her fist so tight her knuckles crack. For a moment, she hates the very idea of Kara Zor-El, of her pretty blonde hair and her adorable laugh. She hates her smile like sunlight and how she glows and blushes pink when Cat compliments her paintings. The way Astra looks at her morphs into pity.

“Humans are limited.”

“I’ll remind you that you are currently inhabiting a planet _belonging_ to said humans,” Cat says, voice hoarse. It hurts to breathe. “Do me a favour and take me to the nearest hospital.”

“Excuse me?”

“You just held me by the throat,” Cat snaps, shuddering at the pain speaking causes. “It takes thirty pounds worth of pressure for five to ten seconds to completely strangle someone to death.”

Astra’s expression is priceless and heart-rending. She looks _so much like Kara._ Cat has to look away.

“I can’t explain this to anyone inside. I can leave a message for Lex if you fly me away – don’t worry,” she adds, “I’m used to it. Kara helped me get over my fear of heights, somewhat.”

“You…” Astra’s eyes lock onto Cat’s throat, her lip twitching in what looks like a downwards tilt. “There is a fracture in two of the bones of your throat. I will take you to your hospital.”

Scared out of her mind, Cat can’t even let off a quip, allowing Astra to pick her up bridal-style. Her clutch is in her grasp; inside it is a mask that she carefully attaches to Astra’s face as they settle up in the sky, Astra clearly searching for the key signs of a hospital. If you know what to listen for, it’s easy – or at least, it’s easy according to Kara.

“You don’t want to be identified, trust me,” Cat whispers. “It’s why Kara had to go.”

Astra scrutinises Cat briefly, nodding. There is a shared silence, before Astra flies over to what Cat thinks is Metropolis General – she’s never been there, having been brought up in Metropolis under the care of private doctors. Katherine Grant likes public hospitals less than Cat likes germs.

“Here,” Astra says, setting her down in front of the emergency department. It’s thankfully clear, for now – but Cat is still glad Astra is wearing a mask. There are security cameras everywhere, in hospitals. “Will you be returning to National City?”

“I will.”

“I shall find you there,” declares the Kryptonian. Her hand pats the mask on her face gently – _fondly. _“Thank-you for your…kindness.”

“If I could speak a lick of it, I’d return to sentiments in Kryptonian,” Cat replies, watching Astra twitch. “Carter-El. That’s her sons name. Carter Lee, according to hospital records, birth certificate, etcetera…but she said his Kryptonian name is Carter-El. I’ve only ever called him Carter on it’s own, but considering the death of Krypton, it’s probably nicer – no, _better_ for you to hold onto these things.”

“You know too much,” Astra murmurs, before flying off.

Cat watches her go and when she finally disappears out of sight, she enters the emergency department – hoping to god that Kara won’t find out in some trashy newspaper that her aunt strangled her to death.


	5. Chapter 5

_ National City, Earth; May of 2003 _

When Kal-El was a baby, Cat and Kara were still only hesitant friends. They saw each other once a week at most, Cat too busy with her career to spend more than one night off socialising. Sometimes, she wouldn’t see them for weeks. By the time their friendship grew so much that Cat was considered ‘one of the family’, as it were, Kal-El was already toddling around.

Kara obviously forgot to mention that in comparison to Kryptonians, Human babies are dumb as rocks.

Adrien Grant at five months old cries, laughs, does his business, eats and sleeps. Occasionally, there is the odd burble or word, but Cat remembers Kal-El; he understood everything his mother said to him, regardless of language she was using or age he was. Cat assumes Carter was the same.

At five months, Adrien gets his first tour of CatCo tower, her fishbowl of an office in no way suitable for him to sleep in; therefore, she has a babysitter pick him up and take him back to her penthouse apartment. Only, the babysitter is late, stuck in traffic. It’s abhorrent. Annoying.

A blessed relief.

On the television set into the wall behind her, Cat watches as a whirlwind of destruction – quite literally – wreaks havoc down the main highway. The chopper is already out, reporting live on the incident. The commentator has obviously been given a spiel from the military, talking about an experimental weapon gone rogue and that local enforcers are on their way, backed up by tanks and other military personnel.

Adrien on her lap wiggles and squirms, oblivious to the danger that might have awaited him in the backseat of her town car. Bleakly, Cat wonders whether the babysitter is among the deceased. Over the next half an hour, the damage only worsens. One of the raised highways are collapsed and two skyscrapers are crumbling – they’re talking about evacuating the city, if they can’t get ‘Red Tornado’ out into the desert.

“We need Superwoman,” she hears someone say. It must be a magical password, for in the distance, a dark blur hastens towards National City, slowing as it reaches Red Tornado, hovering above it. Cat’s heart pounds and she shifts Adrien so she can stand, watching as her friend – _the mother of her firstborn_ – descends, the lines of her suit brightening.

The camera zooms in just in time to see the _S _of the House of El light up bright blue cyan.

From the bullpen of CatCo offices, whoops echo, exclamations of joy ringing through her ears. Adrien is a heavy warmth against her chest, tiny hands grasping at her shirt. Cat’s mind is stuck on the image of Superwoman – of _Kara_ – on the big screen.

_She’s here_.

The fight is relatively short. Superwoman is well-trained in fighting off the big bads of National City and whatever Red Tornado is – android, cyborg, military experiment gone wrong – she still defeats him with an ease so clear, it defies what you know. Cat expects what happens next, the CatCo chopper following her around as she tries to fix building supports, at least temporarily and helping people trapped under rubble and debris.

She doesn’t expect Carter and Kal-El to come flying out of nowhere with a green-skinned alien in black and red. Neither does she expect to see Astra and what looks like half a dozen Kryptonians zipping around National City airspace ten minutes after their debut.

“How many of them are there?” someone asks. Cat closes her eyes, stroking Adrien’s back. The worst is over. It’s time to make an impression.

“More than you can ever imagine,” she says, raising her voice. Stalking around her desk, she approaches her employees where they stand, huddled around the chunky silver television opposite her assistant’s desk. They turn to her and Cat projects a solid air of confidence. “We’ve known aliens existed since Superwoman’s original interview. How hard is it to believe that in a time of crisis, years after the fact, the others who can help will come?”

“Weren’t you Superwoman’s girlfriend?” another questions. Cat regrets being so short that she can’t see who it was, so she can fire them.

Crisply, she replies, “No. Do you think I would have my son if we were involved? You know the work I did, after her disappearance. I spear-headed the investigation – it was _The Tribune_ who broke the news to the world that the DEO were taking people and their families off the street. Do you see those boys?” She holds Adrien one-handed, gesturing to the CatCo choppers close-up of Carter and Kal-El.

“They’re just kids…Superwoman’s kids.”

“They are,” Cat replies, chest tight, “and they’re not the only ones using their powers for good, today. I want profiles of each of the ETs and I want a list of all the things they did.”

One of her reporters raises their hands, “Miss Grant, what about Red Tornado?”

“An exposé on the military – if you’re up for the task, do what you will. I want the article on my desk by tomorrow at noon.”

Thrilled, they nod sharply, grinning. “Yes, Miss Grant.”

Upon seeing so many new people, Adrien fusses. Her first priority his wellbeing, Cat retreats to her office and then to her balcony, when he starts to cry. Eventually, he calms down, but it takes a long time – time that Cat uses to think, mind focusing in on Kara and her children.

_They’re back,_ she thinks, all the while wondering _why._

There are not enough supplies with her at CatCo to look after Adrien there for long. He sleeps in her lap and then his carrier for his afternoon nap, but one change and a bottle later, Cat is forced to leave her precious company and the building behind. On approaching her apartment building, she looks up, muscle memory intact; she always looks, to see if Kara is waiting there on the balcony there. She used to always wait there.

She is there, now.

“Oh my,” Cat murmurs, her driver slowing to a stop to let her out. He offers to carry Adrien’s carrier, but Cat declines – she can do it herself. Inside the lobby, Kal-El is playing hacky-sack, stumbling around trying to keep coordination. The guard watches him in amusement.

“Kal-El, what on Earth are you doing?” Cat can’t help but ask, the hacky-sack falling to the ground as Kal-El turns in her direction, eyes going comically wide.

“Cat!” He cries, using superspeed a moment later to appear in front of her, bouncing up and down on his heels. His arms wave around – he wants to hug her, clearly, but his strength is an issue. Cat doesn’t care.

Putting down Adrien’s carrier, Cat envelopes him in her arms, hugging him as tight as she dares. Tears sting at her eyes.

“It is _so_ good to see you,” she whispers, feeling as fragile as glass. “Is your brother upstairs?”

“Yes,” Kal-El replies, before disentangling himself, crouching down in front of Adrien. “Who’s this?”

“…Adrien. My son.”

“Woah,” whispers the boy, gazing in awe. “He’s so little. Can I hold him?”

“Upstairs. On a chair.” Cat says, picking up the carrier and reaching out for Kal-El’s hand. To Cat, he looks like he’s grown a million miles, when it’s really only an inch or two. “I can’t believe you’re eight this year.”

“Uh-huh,” Kal-El nods, taking her hand automatically. Cat struggles not to cry. How could she have missed someone so much?

Nodding to the guard, Cat leads him to the elevator. They go up, all the way and when Cat unlocks her door, Kal-El runs in blindly, unafraid of the space that’s so familiar to him. Cat hesitates for a mere moment before scolding herself, telling herself to get herself together. Kara is inside.

Kara is here.

Taking a deep breath, Cat enters her own apartment, unsurprised to find Kal-El zooming around, looking at all of his mother’s paintings Cat has hung up. Argo City is over her mantlepiece, watercolours of toddler versions of Carter and Kal-El are hung in a half-moon over the door to her kitchen and Lara Lor-Van in a Kryptonian garden rests casually on an empty desk against the wall, where the sun can shine on it in the mornings.

There are other – most in storage, Cat will admit – but there are a few of her choice favourites where she can see them often. In the doorway to her balcony, Cat can see Kara standing with a stoic-looking man, who rolls his eyes and huffs. Only after glancing her way does he fly off, disappearing from her sight.

“Cat.”

Cat’s eyes spin from Kara to their son. Carter stands to her left and _oh, it’s so obvious._ Cat curses herself for never asking, for never pushing harder – he’s so clearly _theirs_. After having Adrien, Cat knows that Carter’s jaw is hers, their noses and cheekbones identical. They even have the same hair colour – though Cat’s is hidden by highlights and hair dye. Underneath, though, they’re the same.

“Carter, come here,” she orders, plaintive. Cat can’t keep from crying at least a little when he wraps his arms around her. He’s always been her baby – the one she met first out of the two boys, the one who would cuddle with her on sofas and make sure he didn’t hurt her by being too strong, _hers_. Cat just hadn’t realised how much.

She feels a hand on her back, light and tentative. Without looking, Cat draws Kara into their embrace.

“It’s been too long,” whispers Kara. “I’ve missed you. We’ve all missed you.”

“We’re never leaving again,” Carter says, vehement. Cat’s heart pangs.

“Are you sure?” she asks Kara, forcing herself to look into bright blue eyes. “Are you sure you can stay?”

Kara nods, determination clear. “We made a friend. The DEO was in shambles by the time their last team was recalled, because of you – he tagged along, as it were. Made his way up through the ranks. His name is J’onn J’onzz, a Green Martian.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” Kara says, sunny smile pulling at her lips. It hits Cat just how much she loves her, then. How can it not, when that smile is directed her way? “He really is green and he really is Martian. You might have seen him fly in with the boys.”

“I did, I believe,” Cat replies, before Adrien verbalises his discomfort. Immediately, Cat looks over at him, instinct drawing her gaze from Kara to her vulnerable infant. She leaves Carter’s embrace, the young boy hanging back with his mother as Cat shushes her young son, crouching and removing him from his carrier.

“Who’s this?” Kara asks – and this time, Cat doesn’t deny she hears hurt, there. Shame trickles down her back, but Cat meets Kara’s eyes as she introduces him.

“This is Adrien Grant. He’s my son.”

“I can see that,” breathes Kara, Carter peering from a distance. He doesn’t act like Kal-El, who rushes up to Cat’s side again, hands by his side as he peers at Adrien closely.

“He looks like you!”

“Me _and_ Carter,” Cat says to him, giving the game away. Where Carter wrinkles his nose in confusion, Kara goes pale. Cat smiles flatly. “Don’t you think, Kal-El?”

“Huh, yeah, I think,” Kal-El whispers, still in awe of the tiny Human in front of him. Cat turns away from Kara, focusing on Kal-El and then Carter, when he edges forwards, bringing them to her sofa and distracting them from Kara’s unbalanced expression.

It’s clear – very, _very _clear – that they need to talk.


	6. Chapter 6

_ National City, Earth; May of 2003 _

Kara went to South America, of course.

To be specific, she went exploring underwater caves in the Yucatan Peninsula, Mexico. She romped through the jungle with Carter and Kal-El and went diving down into cave systems, living completely off the grid except for when they had to buy food and provisions. By her return, she’d amassed enough research on the underground landscaping of the terrain to get her a Master of Science degree and her PhD, to boot – a credit to Kara’s work ethic and ability to care for her children at the same time.

Comparatively, Cat feels like she’s done little. She’s had her son – from a one-night stand, who would have guessed it? Most people just assume the father wanted nothing to do with her – and she’s kept _The Tribune_ running without Superwoman’s antics to boost sales. Without _Kara’s_ antics to boost sales. Kara, who has gotten her Masters, PhD and cared for two children with zero support _in a jungle_ in a year and a half.

But her insecurities can’t be revealed. She doesn’t dare, not when she has leverage over Kara. Cat doesn’t want Kara to see her as anything else other than strong and stubborn – and _alive._ Her heart broke when Kara left with the boys. Cat blocked it all with work, drinks, parties and distractions. What did it matter that her family were gone? They went because it meant their lives, otherwise. Their safety.

So why does it still sting? Was it because they didn’t invite her along? Is it because Kara should have been letting Cat have a say in Carter’s welfare?

Against her palms, her nails cut into the soft skin of her palms. Her manicurist will worry. Watching the boys fly out of the window with Astra – a woman she has seen very little of lately, since Adrien was born; Cat had thought their budding friendship was coming along quite nicely – Cat doesn’t start by ignoring Kara or worse, letting her get the first word in.

“I’m Carter’s other parent. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Kara cringes, shrinking in on herself. It seems so _wrong_ that she should do so, still dressed in her supersuit, even if her mask is tucked into her sleeve. Cat wonders how much guilt she has been carrying, in light of recent revelations.

“I want to know, Kara,” Cat says, voice cutting. She steps forwards, reaching out to grasp Kara’s elbows, not wanting her to leave or look away. Kara meets her eyes and _that’s not fair._ Cat struggles not to ask her why she’s teary. She _knows_ why. It shouldn’t matter to Cat that’s she crying, but affairs of the heart…they make tears all the more important. “Did you think I wouldn’t believe it? That my knowledge of biology couldn’t be expanded upon? Astra has told me things.”

“You talk to her?”

“She’s my friend, Kara. She was looking for you and found me instead, alone for once. I surrounded myself with the rich and famous after you left, anything to fill my time.” Cat says, irate. “Do you know how much of my life revolved around you? Tuesdays at your home in the evenings – Friday afternoons spent with the children. Weekend mornings having breakfast together. You used to stay here with me four times a month.”

“Cat, I’m sorry-”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Kara,” interrupts Cat. She forces her anger to abate, letting go of her. “But I shouldn’t have insisted on my one night stand rule. I shouldn’t have let you go on for years thinking I thought of you as anything other than a friend.”

“I love you, _te zhor_,” Kara mumbles. Cat reaches to cup her cheek, feeling the dust and dirt on her skin from all the super-heroing she’d been doing that afternoon. Kara presses her hand against Cat’s, leaning into her grasp. It’s soft. Intimate.

“I love you, too, Kara. I always have. I’m sorry, too.”

“Can we start over?” Kara asks, whispering to her. Cat’s arm nudges against her chest; they’ve grown closer, shuffling towards each other, like a solar system revolving and locking, every planet in alignment. Cat can’t resist the urge to wrap her arms around her, arms slipping around her waist, head pressing into her shoulder. Kara eagerly embraces her back and Cat squeezes her eyes shut, feeling tears slide down her cheek.

“I love you,” she says again, “Kara, don’t ever leave again.”

“I won’t, I promise,” Kara murmurs back to her. “The DEO belongs to us, now, to aliens and humans alike. We’re safe. We won’t leave again. Not without you – not without Adrien.”

Cat leans back, grasping at the black material of Kara’s supersuit. It’s always softer than she remembers – dense under her grasp, but stretchy and comfortable.

“We share Carter,” says Cat, “and we share the boys, too. Kal-El and Adrien. They’re _ours_. You are coming back into my life and you are staying there. We are going to work this out. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you, Cat,” Kara smiles, eyes glistening. Cat brushes her thumb over her cheek when a tear spills out. She whispers, “I hear you.”

Then they kiss and to Cat, it’s like coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, #7 is finally finished. #8 will come soon, the _don't_ to this _do_.
> 
> this one was a bit lopsided in places - i've never done a 5+1 so long before, so i hope this made sense to everyone! i got the impression from some comments that people thought that Adrien Grant | Adam Foster was the son of someone important. here's the thing: it's a totally unimportant person and cat's not of the mind to find out who it is, anyway. (spoiler: even i don't know. i literally don't care enough to know. who was carter's father in canon? it was never relevant there, either, so no-one knows that, too.)
> 
> anyway! that's that's it for this one and thank-you to everyone who left a comment and read! i hope there was enough angst to keep everyone on their toes xxx


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